


Dinner in Whitechapel

by abbichicken (orphan_account)



Category: Dracula (TV 2013)
Genre: Blood Drinking, Character Study, Feeding, London, M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vampires, many words where fewer would do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2013-11-07
Packaged: 2017-12-31 19:36:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/abbichicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dracula/Vlad Tepes/Alexander Grayson feeds. Not much more, and certainly no less.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner in Whitechapel

The supple body bends and cracks beneath his hands like so much firewood. Dracula doesn't hear the bones break, feel the skin split beneath the tips of his fangs; all he knows is the pulse of the heart searing into his own as if connected already. A moment of force and puncture and the seal is made, pumping fresh, ripe blood directly to his tongue, thick down his throat, therein to be absorbed by every fibre of his being.

The young man beneath him had been desirable, certainly, caught his eye with a flash of broad shoulders, slender waist and dark gaze, but at this point, in this state of being, the new corpse is only meat and redness, no more and no less, nothing special, laid out in the backstreet he tastes no different from any other body consumed amidst silk sheets, ditch depths or cobblestones. It's all the same: deep, essential and vibrant.

As he sucks and hungers at the torn and breathless throat, mouth working now-dead, yet still-warm blood from the body, so Vlad Tepes surfaces, his infinite sadness threatening the orgiastic delight of thrilling consumption for a second, until he is pushed under in a wave of Dracula's need. In further moments, so Alexander Grayson appears at the back of the blissful/regretful mind to complete the triad, fearing the bloated, sated, richly-fucked look of the freshly fed Dracula will detract from his own sleek, tailored appearance come the morning. Yet neither Grayson nor Tepes could cease Dracula's motions, as much as both might insist they would wish to, both personae would, at the crux of it, find themselves so cursed and rotten on the inside that they aren't half as different from the vampire as they might like to think, even when clean teeth and collar are on show.

The man's blood dries into tight patches on Alexander's throat as he relaxes into the swollen, sated version of his assumed American-in-London self. His suit makes itself similarly tight and close about his body. Shades of Dracula still about him, Alexander draws himself unwillingly/necessarily close about the corpse, even as his fangs are receding, body alive and electric in a way it never was when he was truly alive. Sparks dance in front of his eyes and a buzz flits between his ears, vibrates at the back of his coated tongue.

Grayson tries to get up, but the vampire persuades him to lie there a little longer in the dark, flat down in the cold, sliming gutter, wrecking all that he was and might be for the sake of a further lick, a last lap of congealing wound, the filth of London seeping into his suit just as the life of the nameless, off-duty lamplighter, picked up with a smile and a kiss and a promise of wealth and charm and sex that was extinguished as a lie the moment his head hit the ground and Dracula's fangs pierced his throat seeps into his own dead veins.

As, at last, he picks himself up, and taste comes to him, and soreness from the ground comes to him, and guilt needs to be circumvented, so Dracula smiles, alone and content, as Vlad Tepes bemoans his lot, and Alexander Grayson softly conjures images of the night that might have been, had he taken the lamplighter home and kept the violent half of his thirsts to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> I am astonishingly captivated by this show and expect to write considerably more things, but, eh, I have to start somewhere, and (see my other fic) this sort of thing is virtually always my starting point...at least before the crack comes out... I know it's horribly wordy, but, as I say, I'm just starting somewhere...and also, writing this instead of my NaNo XD


End file.
